


Change of Heart

by Magicofisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Erotica, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-25
Updated: 2005-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicofisis/pseuds/Magicofisis
Summary: After the defeat of Voldemort, Harry realizes he hasn’t been a very supportive friend. He aims to make up for lost time and discovers what he’s been missing along the way.





	Change of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Post-HBP, **contains spoilers**. PWP. Warning for rimming. Written as therapy for me, as I tried to get my ship back afloat after HBP. My wonderful beta, Kate, had very helpful comments, as always. *snogs Kate*  


* * *

“Whatever it is, you might as well just tell me,” Harry said, smiling with amusement at Ron, who was looking highly uncomfortable about something. Harry had come to recognize this agitation as his “I-don’t-want-to-tell-Harry-this-but-I- have-to” condition. He’d have thought Ron would have realized that Harry hadn’t yelled at him for delivering bad news since they were about fifteen, but Ron still treated him with kid gloves sometimes.  
  
Ron’s head turned instantly to gaze at Harry. He’d clearly thought he was not being obvious that there was a problem.  
  
“Right. Well, see the thing is, Harry, now that Voldemort has really gone…um…” He glanced over at Hermione, who nodded her encouragement. “Hermione and I didn’t want to tell you this before because we didn’t want to distract you—”  
  
Harry smiled, looking from one of his friends to the other. “Are you telling me that you’re finally going to do it?”  
  
“Er, do what?” said Ron with a frown.  
  
“Get married, of course.”  
  
“Not exactly, Harry. You see Hermione and I broke up about three months ago.” There was an awkward silence as Harry turned his attention to Hermione, who nodded her head to confirm it.  
  
“We knew how important it was for you to stay focused on finding the last Horcrux, and the one thing that Ron and I have always agreed on was that nothing that happened between the two of us should ever interfere with the mission.” Hermione took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that Harry’s jaw had nearly dropped to the floor. “But seeing as how our task is done now, we’re tired of pretending, Harry.”  
  
As her words soaked into his brain, Harry thought about all the recent nights they’d spent together. It now occurred to him that it had always been him in the middle, with Ron and Hermione on either side. This hadn’t seemed strange to Harry at the time, because the amount of their bickering had also decreased substantially. He’d thought they were getting closer, rather than farther apart, although he supposed it was hard to bicker when you weren’t really speaking to one another.  
  
“So, er, I’m sorry.” Harry looked at each of his friends in turn. “You sure there’s no way to work things out now that Voldemort is dead and things can get back to normal?”  
  
“Well, there might have been if it weren’t for a certain Anthony Goldstein taking up residence in Hermione’s… life.” Ron glared at her bitterly, and Hermione seemed appalled at what Ron had almost said.  
  
“I don’t have to sit here while you insult me,” she said crossly to Ron. “I’m sorry, Harry – we just thought you should hear it from us first. Now that you know, I’m going back to my parents’ house for a few days – it’s been far too long since I’ve seen them.”  
  
Harry walked with her to the dingy front hall of Grimmauld Place and held her cloak as she put it on. Hermione gave him a quick hug before walking out the door and promptly Disapparating.  
  
When Harry returned to the library, he saw that Ron was seething over having let Hermione get under his skin once again. Harry watched him closely – Ron seemed to be far less comfortable with this arrangement than Hermione. After a minute, he flopped down next to Ron on the couch, heaving a deep sigh.  
  
“You could have told me before, you know,” Harry said quietly. “Maybe I could have helped.”  
  
“Harry, you had people asking you for loads of stuff and you spent all of your free time trying to keep the investigation moving forward. You were living on three hours of sleep a night as it was, and we didn’t think you needed to become involved with our petty little squabbles.”  
  
“Wasn’t really a petty squabble if you two broke up, was it?”  
  
Ron gazed at Harry wistfully. “No, I suppose not. But it was never going to work for us. There’s no reasoning with someone who’s always right, and I got tired of having to cave in all the time. And she refused to even try to learn more about Quidditch, even though I told her I was—” Ron stopped speaking suddenly and clapped a hand over his mouth.  
  
Harry’s eyes danced with amusement. “Told her you were what?”  
  
Ron sighed this time. “I told her I was going to try out for the Cannons after the war.”  
  
“Really? But that’s excellent!”  
  
Ron shook his head. “Hermione just laughed at me and told me to keep dreaming.”  
  
“Not the sort of support you want in a girlfriend,” said Harry wisely. He reached out a hand and grasped Ron’s shoulder. “You okay about her, mate?”  
  
Ron shrugged. “Three months is a long enough time to get used to the idea. She seems to have had no trouble moving on; I should move on, too. I’ll be okay. I’m swearing off women, though.”  
  
Harry laughed and was mildly alarmed when Ron didn’t laugh with him. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Ron had really enjoyed the physical benefits of dating, and if he’d gone three months without seeing anyone and had still sworn off women, then hell must have frozen over.  
  
“Good. Now I’ll have someone to hang around with,” Harry said.  
  
Ron’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to start seeing Ginny again?”  
  
“No. Why would you think that?”  
  
“Well, we, um, that is to say, Hermione thought that you only fed us that line about being gay so we would stop all those girls pursuing you. We didn’t think you actually meant it.”  
  
Harry glared at him. “Why would I have told you I’m gay if it wasn’t true? Ginny doesn’t think that, does she? Because when she and I talked, I tried to make it clear that she shouldn’t wait around for me to change my mind.”  
  
“I don’t know,” said Ron with a shrug, “we never spoke about it. Although, come to think of it, Morag McDougall has been spending more time at The Burrow than is strictly necessary.”  
  
Harry and Ron stayed up talking into the wee hours of the morning. It seemed that knowledge of his and Hermione’s break-up was not the only information Ron had been keeping from him, and by the time they headed up to their respective bedrooms, Harry felt closer to Ron than he had in months. He owed Ron his life, and he intended to make up for all that time when he should have been available as a confidant but wasn’t.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Several weeks later, Harry and Ron sat at a small table in a new club that had opened up in Diagon Alley. There were not many clubs in the wizarding community, so this one was packed with young people desperate for a night of post-Voldemort celebration. Although Harry disdained his celebrity status most of the time, it had been extremely helpful in avoiding the queue to get in and obtaining seats at a choice table near the dance floor.  
  
“It’s awfully loud in here,” shouted Ron across the table.  
  
Harry nodded. No point screaming himself hoarse unless he had something to say. He perused the dance floor – there weren’t too many people inebriated enough to start dancing since the night was still young. His gaze rested on an attractive man who appeared to be in his late twenties. Harry smiled and raised his glass to him.  
  
“Do you know that bloke?” asked Ron, following Harry’s stare.  
  
“Not yet, but there’s always hope.”  
  
A few minutes later, the wizard came over and introduced himself as Eric. He spared a polite glance at Ron before taking the seat that Harry offered him.  
  
“You sure I’m not intruding?” Eric asked.  
  
“Not at all. This is Ron, and my name is—”  
  
“Harry Potter. Yes, your face is unforgettable.” As Eric said this, his eyes trolled over Harry’s body as if to confirm that his face wasn’t his only unforgettable feature. “So what brings you boys out this evening?”  
  
Harry smiled, quite pleased at how the evening was going so far. “Ron and I wanted to meet some new people, but our…preferences are different. This place seems like it has a nice mix of witches and wizards of every orientation.”  
  
Eric leaned towards Harry and whispered, “So am I to understand that if I asked you to dance, you wouldn’t turn me down?”  
  
“No, I wouldn’t.”  
  
Eric quickly flicked his tongue into Harry’s ear. “Right, then, how about a dance?”  
  
Harry answered by standing up and leading Eric to the dance floor. He could feel Ron’s gaze on him, but he didn’t dare look back. If the truth be told, Harry would have given anything for Ron to be the one he was leading to the dance floor, but straight Ron wouldn’t go for that. So Harry decided to enjoy what he had and show Ron – who had never been to a place like this before – how to pull someone from a club.  
  
Ron’s eyes bulged as he watched his best mate dance with this Eric character. The dance floor was getting more crowded, with same-sex couples making up about a third of the participants. He knew he should be scoping out the witches, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off Harry, who was dancing with abandon. He looked so happy, and he was so sexy as he gyrated his hips, that Ron couldn’t blame Eric a bit for being unable to keep his hands off Harry. Hell, _he_ wanted to touch Harry, too.  
  
Harry glanced at the table from time to time, noticing that Ron’s eyes were riveted on him. He smiled at Eric, who leant in for a kiss. Harry kissed him back, keenly aware that Ron was watching, so he slipped Eric some tongue. Liquid fire moved through his veins and seemed to center right at his dick. That Harry would be getting some tonight was a foregone conclusion now, and how soon he would get it would depend on whether he was able to hook Ron up with a suitable girl for the evening.  
  
The song changed to a quieter techno-pop number. Harry wrapped his arms around Eric and pulled him close. “My mate is just getting over a break-up with his girlfriend. The sooner we can find someone to cheer him up, the sooner you and I could leave… if you’re interested, that is.”  
  
Eric’s smile spread wide across his face. “I don’t think ‘interested’ even begins to describe it. Are you a top or bottom?”  
  
“Top usually. Is that okay?”  
  
“Nobody in his right mind would pass up an opportunity to be fucked by Harry Potter. Okay, let’s see about finding a girl for your pal. Shouldn’t be too difficult with his looks. I’ll be right back.”  
  
Harry returned to the table, where Ron was nursing his firewhiskey and pretending that he hadn’t been eying Harry the whole time he was dancing. Harry signaled to the barman for more drinks and slid into his chair.  
  
“I never knew you could dance like that, Harry,” said Ron. “You’ve come a long way since the Yule Ball.”  
  
Harry grinned. “Well, I had to find something to do while you and…” Harry wanted to rip out his tongue. Could he possibly be more insensitive than bringing up Hermione when the whole purpose of coming here was to help him forget about her? “…while I was away from Godric’s Hollow. It’s fun, especially if you’ve had plenty to drink first.”  
  
“I wouldn’t know,” sighed Ron. “Hermione never wanted to go out – said it was too dangerous. She’d have died if she’d known you’d gone out dancing to, er, meet people.”  
  
“Why do you think I did it, mate?” Harry responded with a wink. This seemed to cheer up Ron, so that he was grinning when Eric arrived back at the table with a perky blonde witch.  
  
“Zena Monchamp, this is Harry,” Eric paused to trail his fingers across Harry’s cheek, “and Ron. Zena is an old friend of mine from school.”  
  
Zena punched Eric in the arm. “Be careful who you’re calling ‘old’,” she said with a smirk. Zena shook Harry’s hand, her eyes darting quickly to check out Harry’s scar. She turned to Ron and placed her hand on top of his. “You’re not a Weasley by any chance, are you?”  
  
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am.”  
  
Zena leaned towards him. “I was a year behind your brother Charlie at Hogwarts, but in Ravenclaw.” Zena’s eyes swept over Ron’s body. “You must be a Quidditch player, too. You’ve definitely got the build for it.”  
  
Harry couldn’t hear much of their conversation because he was being thoroughly distracted by Eric, who was crouching behind his chair and doing marvelously sinful things with his tongue on the back of Harry’s neck.  
  
When he couldn’t stand it any longer, Harry said to Eric, “Let’s dance.” He noticed that Eric’s eyes were clouded with lust, and he knew his must have been just the same.  
  
“I thought we were getting out of here. I don’t appreciate being teased.”  
  
Harry kissed him. “I just want to make sure that Ron and Zena hit it off before I leave him here.”  
  
As Harry and Eric performed their pre-mating ritual, Ron was torn between watching Harry and talking to Zena, who happened to be quite knowledgeable about Quidditch and seemed very interested in him. Harry unbuttoned his shirt and soon Eric’s hands were all over his heaving chest. It took a moment for Ron to realize that Zena had stopped talking.  
  
‘Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “what were you saying?”  
  
“I wasn’t saying anything,” Zena answered. “And you really shouldn’t stare at your friend like that, or girls might get the wrong idea.”  
  
Ron blushed to the tips of his ears. “What? No. I, um, Harry and I have been friends for a really long time, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen him like…that.”  
  
They both turned to watch Harry probing for Eric’s tonsils in the middle of the dance floor. Ron’s jeans became achingly tight at the sight of them together.  
  
“God, I don’t blame you for looking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so sexy in my whole life. Kind of makes me wish he batted for the other team, you know?”  
  
“Or makes me wish that I did.” A shiver ran down Ron’s spine. Crap, he had not just said that, had he?  
  
Convinced that Ron was in good hands, Harry left the club with Eric. He took hold of Eric’s arm and Apparated them to the front door of number twelve Grimmauld Place, wherein he proceeded to have the best sex of his life.  
  
~*~*~  
  
It was early afternoon when Harry burst through the door to the kitchen to find Ron huddled over a book, which he quickly closed and banished. Though Harry was feeling especially cheerful after a full night of perfect sex, he didn’t want to gloat in front of Ron, just in case.  
  
“So, did you have fun after I left last night?” Harry asked timidly as he flicked his wand to make some toast.  
  
Ron shrugged. “It was all right, I guess. That girl, Zena, was pretty nice, but I think she may have been expecting me to, er, make a move on her.”  
  
“So why didn’t you, Ron? Her body language was screaming ‘take me home,’ and her body wasn’t too bad, either,” said Harry with a grin.  
  
Ron frowned. “I told you, Harry. I’m through with girls. I don’t understand them, and no matter what I do, it always seems to be wrong.”  
  
“All right. Sorry. I was just trying to help, but I won’t do it anymore. Become a monk, see if I care,” Harry said with a smirk.  
  
Ron flicked his wand and a bottle of butterbeer flew out of the pantry. “So, are you going to see that bloke Eric again? You two made quite a racket last night.”  
  
Harry tried to ignore the blush that swept across his face. “Oh, sorry. We didn’t make any definite plans, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t see him again if I had the opportunity.”  
  
Ron shook his head. “So that’s it, then? You just bring random strangers home, shag them and send them off with a ‘Have a nice life’?”  
  
“What are you, my conscience?” Harry glared at Ron. “Because I don’t recall it being any of your business who I shag.”  
  
Ron let out an exasperated breath. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said crossly. “I’m just amazed that you can, you know, do that and not have it mean anything.”  
  
Harry took a deep breath: he needed to calm down. He tried to remember that Ron’s sexual experience consisted of nearly two years of dating a girl who he’d known since age eleven and a brief stint with a flaky witch who had given him a necklace declaring him ‘My Sweetheart.’  
  
“Ron, I hate to break this to you, but it’s really hard to find someone you care about enough to want to spend more than one night with them. I got tired of waiting to have sex until I found someone special, because it might never happen.  
  
“It’s like I have a split personality. I have all these people I care a lot about – you, Hermione, Ginny, Luna – but I don’t want to have sex with them. And then I see these attractive wizards and I want them so bad. But when we’re done, I want them to go away so I can be with my friends...Ron, what’s wrong?”  
  
Ron stared blankly ahead. He shrugged. “So I’m just ‘one of the girls’ to you?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You grouped me with Hermione, Ginny and Luna – your platonic girlfriends. So you don’t think I’m attractive enough to have sex with?” Ron looked at him sulkily.  
  
“Where on earth would you get an idea like that? Of course you’re attractive. In fact, Eric was saying last night that it was a shame that you’re straight. I was just making the point that I only seem to be able to get close to people who are sexually off limits.”  
  
Harry walked over to search the pantry for jam to put on his now cold toast, watching Ron in his peripheral vision. He considered the possibility that Ron was upset because Harry had left him at the club the night before, but that didn’t seem to be the source of Ron’s annoyance. It was almost as if he was jealous. But that didn’t make any sense, either, since they both agreed that Ron could have brought Zena home with him if he’d only asked her.  
  
Thinking that now was not the time to discuss the matter, Harry changed the topic. “Want to see if we can find a few people to play Quidditch this afternoon? I wouldn’t mind popping over to Godric’s Hollow to check in on the place, and we could play in the orchard.”  
  
“Yeah. I’ll floo Dean and Seamus. They’re always up for two-on-two.”  
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Ron happily strode over to the fireplace. He couldn’t help but feel grateful that he’d avoided a major confrontation with his best mate. He just wished that he had an inkling of what the confrontation might have been about.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry had spent a very long day at the Ministry of Magic, where he had to answer a barrage of questions from the head of the Unspeakables relating to the demolition of Voldemort’s six Horcruxes. It was grueling having to relive the horror of his last two years, and by the time he’d answered all of the man’s questions, Harry’s head felt like it was about to split open.  
  
He tentatively opened his eyes, hoping that he’d Apparated to his own house without splinching himself. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry headed for the bathroom, where they kept their headache remedies. He wanted nothing more than a headache potion and a long night’s sleep.  
  
Harry passed Ron’s bedroom on the way to his own and heard the unmistakable sound of someone really enjoying the throes of passion. Harry grinned. Thank God – now that Ron was getting some action, maybe he would climb out of the funk he’d been in for weeks. Harry paused a moment before moving on to his room, just long enough to hear a deep male voice cry out, “Ron!”  
  
 _No. Fucking. Way._ Ron couldn’t possibly be in there with a bloke. He was completely straight. Wasn’t he? What if it was just a woman with a deep voice? Harry listened a bit more. No, the voice was moaning how good Ron felt around his cock – it had to be a man. It sounded like Ron was bottoming.  
  
“Christ,” Harry muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m standing here listening.” He turned and continued to his bedroom.  
  
Harry was hard as a rock when he slipped into his bed. He imagined himself saying filthy things into Ron’s ear as he thrust balls deep into Ron’s arse. He came hard and then promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry sipped his tea the next morning as he tried to work out his feelings about Ron. On the one hand, he was glad that Ron had decided to experiment with men. Harry didn’t believe for a moment that Ron was actually gay, but the fact that Ron was willing to explore bi-sexuality meant that he had fully accepted Harry’s lifestyle.  
  
On the other hand, Harry was slightly hurt that Ron hadn’t asked him to be his first. Except that he had mentioned to Ron that he considered him off limits, hadn’t he? Perhaps that had dissuaded him from pursing sex with Harry. Or it might have been that Ron had already been burned through having a relationship with a best friend. Still, it hurt to think that Ron had been with someone else when it was something Harry wanted so badly.  
  
The kitchen door opened to reveal a very disheveled Ron, who walked gingerly to the bench before sitting down with a grimace. Harry burst into laughter at the sight.  
  
“There’s a spell to make it feel better, you know,” said Harry with a smirk. “Would you like me to help you out?”  
  
“No, I’m fine. I just slept wrong, that’s all.”  
  
Harry could hardly contain his laughter. “Indeed. It’s usually advisable to take his prick out of your arse before you fall asleep. Hurts much less the next morning.”  
  
Ron’s blush spread all the way up to his hairline. “You, uh, heard us then?”  
  
“I just happened to walk by at an inopportune moment. Didn’t mean to intrude.”  
  
“Do the spell please, Harry.” Harry cast the pain relief charm that he’d learned from a former lover who was a healer-in-training at St. Mungo’s.  
  
“Thanks,” said Ron. He still looked very uncomfortable despite the fact that Harry had just taken away his pain. Harry had the distinct impression that his emotional pain was still there.  
  
“So what was his name?” asked Harry in a singsong voice.  
  
“Marcellus.”  
  
“And are you going to see him again?”  
  
Ron let out a half-laugh. “What do you think?”  
  
“I don’t really know what to think,” said Harry with a shrug. “What should I think?”  
  
“That I’m a complete prat,” Ron said as he poured tea into his mug.  
  
Harry took the teapot when Ron offered it, and refilled his own cup. “Why? What did you do? Forget to use a condom? Call him the wrong name when you came?”  
  
“No. I shouldn’t have criticized you last week when you brought that Eric bloke home. Now I know what you mean: I couldn’t get Marcellus out of here quickly enough.”  
  
Harry had so many questions to ask, but he didn’t want to seem like he was interrogating his best mate. He waited almost a full minute, hoping Ron would continue, but when he said nothing, Harry offered, “You know, usually people are in a better mood after they’ve got laid. You don’t seem all that happy.”  
  
Ron played absently with the spoon in the sugar bowl. He looked up and said, “I just wanted to see if I was missing something. I figured it must be okay if you did it, and I had to try it for myself.”  
  
“Sounds as if you didn’t like it much,” Harry offered.  
  
“It’s not that,” said Ron. “The actual sex itself was good. Weird – a lot different than with Hermione. But then it was over and I wanted him to go away.”  
  
Harry nodded. “See, I always feel that way, too, and it doesn’t bother me. But I have a feeling that you’re one of those people who needs to care about someone before you have sex with them. I’m willing to bet that you’d have felt the same way if it had been a witch you’d pulled last night.”  
  
“I suppose. Makes me sound kind of girly, though.”  
  
“No, it’s just honest. Nothing wrong with that.”  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry didn’t know what to do about Ron after that. The problem was that Ron was no longer strictly off limits, and the fact that he’d willingly slept with a bloke sent Harry’s brain into overdrive. He desperately wanted Ron, not just because he was attracted to him, but also because he wanted Ron to try it again with someone who truly cared about him.  
  
Ron didn’t seem very anxious to repeat the experience, which made Harry question whether Ron had taken his monk comment a bit too seriously. Harry, on the other hand, was as horny as a bitch in heat, and if he didn’t get some action soon, he was going to attack Ron whether he wanted it or not. He finally convinced Ron to go out to the club with him by promising to let Ron use the Firebolt the next time they played Quidditch.  
  
The club wasn’t nearly as crowded as the last time they’d been, and there seemed to be far fewer men cruising that night. Harry and Ron were on their third drinks before a group of young women began chatting them up and dragged them unwillingly onto the dance floor.  
  
Harry began to relax once he started dancing. Not wanting any of the girls to get the wrong impression concerning their chances with him, Harry focused his attention on Ron. This was not difficult, since Ron was oozing sex appeal as he turned his full attention back on Harry. Though he didn’t do much more than sway back and forth, he moved his hips in a seductive way that was driving Harry insane. He put his hands on Ron’s hips and swayed with him. Harry licked his lips and Ron licked his, too.  
  
Suddenly, it felt to Harry that there was no one else on the dance floor except for him and Ron. The dancers that jostled him from behind were incidental to the one dancing in front of him. Harry moved his hips to the pulsing bass rhythm, locking his eyes onto Ron’s and communicating his heart’s deepest desire as best as he could. Throwing caution to the wind, he craned his neck to kiss Ron. Ron sucked on Harry’s lower lip before launching an all-out assault on his mouth.  
  
Ron broke away and said something, but Harry couldn’t hear it over the throbbing of the bass. He leant in, putting his ear close to Ron’s lips.  
  
“You wouldn’t want to continue this at home, would you?”  
  
“God, yes,” purred Harry into Ron’s ear. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”  
  
Ron’s lips brushed lightly across Harry’s. “Let’s go,” he said. As he turned to leave, Harry grabbed Ron’s arm and side-along Apparated them to his bedroom at Grimmauld Place.  
  
The instant they appeared, Harry’s lips were on Ron’s. He was worried about what might happen if Ron let himself think too much, and he didn’t want any doubt in Ron’s mind that Harry wanted him down to his soul and wasn’t planning to stop until he got there.  
  
Coming up for air, Harry whispered, “All right, mate?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Ron’s answer was like a slap in the face, until he saw the corners of Ron’s mouth turn up in an impish grin.  
  
“We’ve got too many clothes on,” smirked Ron.  
  
That problem could easily be remedied. Harry slipped his hands to the hem of Ron’s t-shirt and slowly worked it upwards. Harry felt Ron shiver as his hand moved across Ron’s spine, and it only served to excite him more. His mouth broke away from Ron’s long enough to lift the t-shirt over Ron’s head, whereupon he haphazardly tossed it on the floor.  
  
Ron was nervously struggling with Harry’s shirt buttons, so Harry pulled his wand from his back pocket and hastily cast an unfastening charm. It opened the buttons on his jeans as well, and Ron took advantage of that immediately. He slid his hand inside Harry’s pants, and rubbed the length of his hardened shaft, eliciting a loud moan and a few curse words of endearment from Harry.  
  
Were he with a stranger, Harry would probably be halfway through the shag by now. But this was Ron, his best mate and the person he loved more than anyone else in the world. Even if he didn’t know how to ask for it, Ron needed intimacy and emotion and trust in order to let himself fully enjoy sex, and Harry was determined to give it to him. But Harry wasn’t being completely altruistic. He, himself, craved that intimacy as well, and he wanted to savor this experience with Ron.  
  
Harry pulled Ron close, their now naked flesh touching for the entire length of their bodies. “Tell me what you want, Ron. I want to make this perfect for you.”  
  
Ron’s voice was almost a growl when he said, “I want you to fuck me.”  
  
Harry’s cock jumped to attention at Ron’s words as Harry felt his excitement growing even stronger. “I don’t think I can do that,” breathed Harry. “Fucking is for people I don’t care about and never want to see again. I want to make love to you, Ron, so I can see what it’s supposed to be like with someone special.”  
  
Ron pushed Harry back onto the bed. “Yeah,” he said, “that’s exactly what I want.”  
  
Ron stretched out on top of Harry, pressing his hardness into Harry’s belly and trapping their erections between them. Harry reached down to cup Ron’s perfect arse, and he could tell by Ron’s immediate squirming that he was extremely sensitive to the touch, which opened up a world of possibilities. As Ron’s lips traveled across his jaw line and neck, Harry’s hands brushed as much bare skin as possible. When Ron sucked on the hollow of Harry’s throat, Harry responded by slipping one hand between them and snaking it around Ron’s cock.  
  
“Aghhhhngh,” moaned Ron.  
  
Harry pushed Ron off of him and scrambled to his knees. He grabbed a pillow, saying, “Stay face down but put this under your hips.” Harry spread Ron’s knees apart and crawled between them. He leaned over to rest his chest on Ron’s back and whispered in his ear, “You look fantastic. I want to taste you. I want to lick you everywhere.”  
  
 _“Fuck, Harry.”_  
  
Harry alternated between licking and laying a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the length of Ron’s spine. He drew designs on Ron’s arse cheeks with his tongue and sucked, bit and licked until Ron was quivering with desire. He pulled Ron’s arse cheeks far apart, exposing his hole and licking the whole length of his crack. Harry worried the sensitive flesh there with his tongue, so that by the time his tongue breached Ron’s hole, Ron’s back was beaded with sweat and his moaning was incoherent. Harry wiggled his tongue inside Ron until the muscle began to tire.  
  
His saliva and the pre-come leaking from his impossibly hard cock would probably have been sufficient, but he knew Ron had been pretty roughed up after his first time, so Harry reached over for the tube of lubricant on his bedside table. When he moved, Ron flipped around so that he was lying on his back.  
  
“I want to watch your face when you come,” said Ron. He swiped the tube out of Harry’s hand and squirted some lube onto his fingers. He wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock and pumped several times with an agonizingly slow motion.  
  
Harry’s eyes never left Ron’s as he slowly pushed inside. It wasn’t only their bodies that were connected; Harry felt as though he could see into the depths of Ron’s soul through his lust-clouded eyes. It was a strange kind of comfort, like he was finally where he was supposed to be. Ron’s breathing was ragged, but he didn’t look away, either. His mouth was open slightly, and except for an occasional grimace, Ron was clearly enjoying the sensation of Harry entering him.  
  
Harry focused on Ron’s freckles, the beads of sweat that had appeared along his hairline: anything except the wet, warm pressure that currently held his prick in a vise-like grip.  
  
“All right, Ron?” Harry said when he could no longer stand it. He was desperate to thrust hard and deep, and it was only his desire to please Ron that allowed him to keep his resolve.  
  
“Yeah. Burns a bit, but I’m getting used to it.” Ron lifted his head to meet Harry’s and they kissed deeply.  
  
“Almost there. Relax, Ron, and it won’t hurt as much,” Harry whispered reassuringly. He bent down to kiss the hollow of Ron’s neck, and as he did so, Ron must have let go of the last of his resistance, because Harry slid easily the rest of the way inside him.  
  
It seemed like ages before Ron told Harry to move, and as soon as he did, it was clear that Harry wasn’t going to last very long. The feeling of Ron so tight around him and the little moans and grunts that escaped from Ron’s mouth made it almost impossible to hold back. With a few more strokes, he shot hard into Ron, his whole body convulsing from the effort.  
  
His kisses were hungry and passionate as he came down from his climax, and he attempted to channel all of his emotions through his lips. Once Harry was able to muster the energy, he pulled out of Ron and licked a path down Ron’s chest, stopping just before his tongue reached Ron’s cock. Glancing up to meet Ron’s eyes, Harry slid two fingers back inside of him, watching carefully for a sign that he’d found Ron’s prostate.  
  
“Ugh!” cried Ron, and Harry figured he’d found it. As he continued to rub Ron’s sweet spot, Harry took as much of Ron’s cock into his mouth as he could. Ron was beyond coherence and before long he came, too, with Harry’s name tumbling off his lips.  
  
They kissed again, holding each other close with their sticky flesh bonding them together. Harry had never felt this way before. He couldn’t get close enough – couldn’t get his tongue far enough in Ron’s mouth or hold him tightly enough. He panicked for a moment when Ron shifted his weight, thinking that Ron was going to leave the bed.  
  
“Ron, I—”  
  
“Harry, that was brilliant. What?”  
  
“I l-love you,” he stammered.  
  
Ron stared at him in stunned silence. Harry continued, speaking very quickly, “You don’t have to say anything. I just… It’s never been like this. I never felt—”  
  
Ron cut him off with a passionate kiss. “Course I feel the same way. You said I was off limits, and I wanted to change that. You don’t think I’d try to become gay without a good reason, do you?”  
  
Harry laughed. “You don’t just decide to become gay, Ron. That’s not how it works. It’s about discovering who you’re most comfortable with and what feels right.”  
  
“This feels right to me, being with you.”  
  
Harry kissed Ron again. “Yeah, it feels right to me, too.”  
  
With a swipe of his wand, Harry cleaned them up and placed his wand next to his glasses on the bedside table. He burrowed in next to Ron, running his fingers lazily across Ron’s chest.  
  
“I’ll go sleep in my own bed if you want,” Ron said tentatively.  
  
Harry lifted his head to look Ron in the eye. “The hell you will. And if you try to leave, I might have to tie you to the bedpost.” He waggled his eyebrows.  
  
“I’d hate that,” answered Ron with a saucy grin.  
  
Harry sniggered. “Then I’d have to put a necklace around your neck that says, ‘My Sweetheart.’” He leant down to flick Ron’s nipple with his tongue. “Won-Won.”  
  
“Fuck you, Harry,” Ron said, although he was smiling.  
  
“Mmmm, I’m going to hold you to that promise, you know.”  
  
They kissed some more until Harry’s eyelids became heavy and he drifted in and out of consciousness.  
  
Harry was just about to sink fully into sleep when Ron muttered, “Damn it!”  
  
“Wazzamadder?” Harry said, sleepily.  
  
“Nothing,” answered Ron with a sigh. “It’s just that it’s not fair that she has to be fucking right about everything.”  
  
“Who – Hermione?”  
  
“Yeah, who else.” Harry’s hand was splayed across Ron’s chest. Ron picked it up and guided it to his lips, tenderly kissing each knuckle before sucking the index finger into his mouth. That was about all it took for Harry’s cock to harden with interest.  
  
“What did she say?” asked Harry, shakily.  
  
Ron shifted so that he was leaning over Harry, propped up on one arm. As he turned, Harry could feel Ron’s cock against his thigh. Apparently Ron had sucked his finger with a particular purpose in mind.  
  
“Before we split up we were arguing – shut up, Harry – and she said that I really belonged with you, that I was more devoted to you than I was to her and it wouldn’t surprise her if we ended up together.”  
  
“Wow – really? That’s kind of scary, isn’t it?”  
  
Ron laid a trail of kisses down Harry’s neck to his collarbone. “You have no idea how scary she is. But I’m glad I’m with you, even if it means her being right.”  
  
“Thanks, Ron.”  
  
Ron smirked and added, “You give _much_ better head,” before diving under the covers and proving that he was a very quick learner.  



End file.
